James McAvoy, Will You Father My Children?

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Let's get a few things out of the way right off the bat. Wanted is as much a fantasy movie as it is an action picture—those expecting macho realism should step aside now. Wanted revels in its unabashedly absurd sensibility—learn to scream, "What the fuck?!," and love it. Wanted is ridiculously in love with itself and its technical virtuosity—Russian director Timur Bekmambetov, who helmed the visually INSANE Night Watch and Day Watch, is himself most likely INSANE. I mean, the goddamn film is about a secret fraternity of assassins who take their orders from a magical loom (I'm not kidding!), and climaxes with a factory full of bomb-strapped rats (I'm really not kidding!).

But that's not what I want to talk about. I want to talk about James McAvoy, who plays an office drone that transforms into a seriously bad-ass hitman by way of Angelina Jolie's boobies and moxie (not necessarily in that order). Sure, you already know how much Ilove James McAvoy, but I have a civic duty to devote more blog space to him. Because James McAvoy in this movie made me CREAM MY PANTS. SEVERAL TIMES. Yes, the film's last act delivers lingering shots of his deliciously buff and dripping-wet body, but his final two-handed gun battle in jeans, a wife-beater, and a leather jacket is so fucking sexy that it's pornographic. I am not exaggerating. If I had it here on DVD right now, I would beat off to it.

And to prove to you that I'm not this world's lone perv, behold a straight (I presume) critic who declares, "I Want to Fuck This Movie." He concludes, "Iron Man is a movie you can make love to, but Wanted is a movie you're gonna wanna fuck, with a cock ring, on top of a fast-moving train." It's good to know I'm not alone.